Long Live The King (Peaky Blinders)

Robbery

(Nick's P.O.V.)
I walked into the Garrison. Spotting Freddie Thorne and some of his friends in a corner. "Good evening, gentlemen" I told the bunch as I walked up to them, "evening, LT." Freddie replied with a nod. Freddie may be a communist now, but I still treat him like the same person as when I first met him. "Have you put any thought in my offer?" Freddie questioned curious. He has always been interested in hearing which side I am on. Communism, Democracy, Oligarchy or Monarchy. To be honest I haven't really thought about it and I also do not really care. Aslong as that side has good intentions. I chuckled at him "you know well enough that I don't mingle myself in politics, Freddie" I remind one of my former Sergeant. "But I do suggest that when it comes to choosing a side in political parties. You have got to remember not to look at what they will promise you. But what they have done to you in the past". I could see all of them think for a second before I got a reply. "Yes, sir" Freddie replied with a nod and then I decide to take my leave, to head to the bar. Soon Tommy walked in aswell. Tom completely ignored Freddie as he walked over to where I was standing. What politcal point of view can do between two men who once fought side by side just a few years ago, I thought to myself. Tommy arrived by my side and I great him with a simple nod. I leaned on the bar and watched Harry give us a bottle of whiskey "on the house". Tommy grabbed two coins from his pocket and put them down on the bar. I heard footsteps come towards us from behind me. "I'll take a mild" it was Freddie who stepped to my right. While Tommy was to my left. I was the border that would prevent a potential fight. I watched Freddie's arm go past me and slide one coin from Thomas stack of coins and slid the single coin towards Harry. Paying for his drink with Tommy's money. Tom chuckled at the nerves of Freddie while Harry just stood in shock. "Cheers, Thomas" Freddie said and took a drink. He then grabbed Tommy's cap from the table, examinig the razor blades that were sewn into them. "Crown of prince. Soon to be King, I'd bet" he said throwing it back on the bar. "You don't bet" Tommy stated, "no. But these past few days I've been speculating" he answered. I turned to the newly profiund Commie "about what?". "One of my union comrades has a sister, who works in a telegraph office at the BSA factory. She says over the past week they've had messages coming up from London to the Brass, from Winston Churchill himself". Freddie turned and leaned on the bar to come closer to us both. "Something about a robbery. A robbery of national significance it said". I wondered if this robbery was what lead to the death of my brother or will potentially lead to mine. "They found a list of names left on the telegraph machine and on that list was your name and my name together. What kind of a list would have the name of a communist and the name of a bookmaker side by side". I watched Tommy think for a second. "Perhaps its a list of men who give false hope to the poor" Tommy simply stated. He turned to look Freddie in the eye and they stared at each other. "the only difference between you and me, Freddie. Is that sometimes my horses stand a chance of winning" Tommy said and leaned closer to him. To my right Freddie grew annoyed and angry. "You know there are days when I hear about the cuttings and beatings, and I really wish I'd let you take that bullet in France". Both of them grew agitated with one another. "Quit it, both of you" I told the two of them "before I'll be the one putting a bullet in the pair of you". I could tell from their body language that they stood down, allthough it was hard "yes, Sir". The two men calmed down and leaned on the bar again. And so eventually, Freddie left soon after. Meanwhile, Tommy offers to continue our conversation in the Blinder's private room. I sit down and watch Tom walk to the hatch to order some drinks. "Give me a bottle of whiskey and four glasses, please" he asked the barmaid, Grace Burgess. "Scotch or Irish?" She questioned looking at the bottles. "Irish" Tommy offered, "Irish tastes like dog piss" I told him jokingly, "I prefer to drink Scotch". Tom turned around with a smile "like a good ol' boy, aye?" Tommy replied with a smirk, "I love The Macallan" I continued, "you're out of your mind, LT." Tom laughed shaking his head, "that's for sure". It doesn't take long before two other men walk into the private room and sit across from us. Tommy pours the whiskey while one of the men lights a cigarette. The two strangers down their drinks. "You'll forgive me, Mr Shelby, if I indulge a little" the man who lit a cigarette began and grabbed the bottle of irish whiskey. Tommy shakes his head and motions to the bottle "please". I make a mental note of the thick irish accents. "It takes a lot for a man from Sparkbrook to step inside this pub" the brown haired man continued as he poured himself another drink. "Anyone with money and good intentions is welcome in the Garrison" Tommy replied lighting a cigarette, "Now...you said you had business". I realize that Tommy wanted me in this meeting, probably to ask my opinion after it. I knew a small detail of a problem the Blinders had, but not exactly what. "It's delicate, Mr Shelby. It's a question of who knows what about what. It concerns the factory down the road, at the BSA. As you might know, most of the paint shop there is Irish. Big old place like that, rumours get started. Rumours that there was a robbery". This was the second time today that someone mentioned a robbery. Now I wondered how likely it would be the same damn robbery. "Robbery of what?" Tom questioned unamused. "Guns, Mr Shelby. A serious amount of guns" the Irish man answered. "What business is that of his?" I asked the two, "When it comes to speculation, you can't beat a factory night shift. Some say there was word from the proofing bay it was the Peaky Blinders who took them" he told me. "Your night shift must be dreaming" I scoffed. "Maybe they are" the brown haired nodded. "Maybe they're not" that was the first time the other one had spoken. "What we are trying to say is, Mr Shelby, that if you were to hear about the whereabouts of said items... we'd pay good money". "You have good money?" Tommy questioned, "We have collections from the pubs" the brown haired man said. "For who do you speak?" I questioned intrigued. "The people of Ireland" the man continued, "The Irish Republican Army" the blond interupted. Well thats fucking good to know. Winston Churchill would surely have a heart attack if he finds out that the heir to the throne of England was sitting opposite of two IRA men, whose comrades killed the brother. "For a fact?" I asked raising an eyebrow. "For a fսck¡ng fact" the blond sneered at me. I watched him closely. Trying to figure out their next move. "You think we're jokers?" The blond spoke through gritted teeth. "Am I laughing?" I asked him and clocksized my head at him. The blond didn't replied, he just held a challenging eyecontact with me. Then he began to sing one of the songs from the IRA. "Oh, father, why are you so sad. On this bright Easter morn'" he sang proudly, "Maguire, will you shut up?" The other commented trying to shut his comrade up. "When Irishmen are proud and glad. Of the land Where they were born?", "Maguire, away and shite man, we're trying to talk business" his friend was beginning to grow annoyed. "Oh, son, I see sad mem'ries view. Of far-off distant days. When being just a boy like you. I joined the IRA". Maguire finished his song with a bang on the table. "Bravo" I said unimpressed. Tommy nodded and the two stood up to leave "All right, boys. If I hear anything about who knows what about what, I'll let you know". After the two Irishmen left, Tommy sat back down beside me. "Well, that was... entertaining to say the least. It shows you that whiskey is good proofing water" I said and grabbed my glass to take a sip. Tommy laughed and nodded his head. "They're nobodies. They drink in The Black Swan in Sparkbrook. They're only rebels because they like the songs" Tommy sighed, "is that sympathy I hear?" I question him with a sly smirk. He looked up at me "I have no sympathies of any description". I took a deep breath in and then became serious. "Twice in the span of an hour, I hear talk about a robbery. Please tell me, you do not have them" I asked him. Tom didn't answer my question which confirmed to me that he had infact the guns. Tommy eventually explained that it was dumb luck. His men took the wrong crate from the docks. I rubbed my eyes and mumbled some cursewords. "Tommy, you sell those guns to anyone who has use for them, especially the IRA, you surely will be hanged. My advice? Dump them somewhere the police can find them". "No" he replied shaking his head, "jesus christ, Tom. Didn't you hear?" I loudly asked him, "the IRA killed one of the Princes when he went to visit Ireland. So, the home office will most definetly make sure they won't go after the second brother. Now especially considering everybody and their dog knows about this gun robbery. They won't fucking care what your agenda is. They'll just easily hang and drain you and the IRA like fucking pigs at the slaughter house. And I won't be able to help you". Tom kept quiet, rethinking his predicament. I stood up from my seat "now I hope you heed my warning and dump those guns. Because trust me when I say that its for your own good".

Published: 24th of November 2024

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